


This Is a Way

by deltachye



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, No Spoilers, Other, Reader-Insert, Romance, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 12:26:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8248927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deltachye/pseuds/deltachye
Summary: [reader x yoosung kim]i love you so much/that I'll always be here/this is a way to say that I love you[based off of lyrics from "This Is a Way" by David Choi]





	

**Author's Note:**

> Yoosung was my first love so I've gotta publish for him first. But I love Jumin and Seven a lot too... shout-out to Cheritz for sleep deprivation and heart problems :))  
> Here's a link to the song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vrdK1JvQITg  
> Without further ado please enjoy my shameless self-indulgence in Yoosung fluff because the boy deserves it i sweaR

_ _

* * *

 

_I got a cold_

  _And you got one too_

_My silly heart says you're a fool_

_You tell me I'm sick_  
_With a giggle and stare_  
_I hope that you know_  
_That I really care_

Yoosung woke with a groggy start, a blanketing stuffiness draped over his entire body. A throbbing headache in his skull accompanied with the telltale scratchy throat and plugged nose told him that, unfortunately… he’d caught a cold.

He groaned slightly, the itchiness in his throat multiplying into a splintering, constant pain that multiplied whenever he swallowed. Hot tears welled in his eyes without his permission as he yawned. He felt miserable. How had this happened? Had somebody sneezed on him at school? Or maybe the shoddy cafeteria food had finally taken its toll on his body. In any case, Yoosung felt as if he were crawling on the line of death with a hard lean towards Hell. With a jolt he remembered what the weight beside him was and turned, feeling you drag the blanket somewhat as you rubbed your eyes. Immediately a smile went to his face. He didn’t know why the mere thought of you could have him feeling so giddy, but he didn’t care about that right now. The expression faltered somewhat and he rubbed your shoulder, tiny goosebumps under his fingertips.

“Good morning,” he mumbled, trying to sound a little more upbeat than he felt. “How are you, honey?”

“Mmgh,” you moaned in response, rubbing your fists into your eyes. You sniffled nasally and Yoosung’s suspicions came to light. He rested the back of his hand onto your forehead and felt the pinch of distress when warmth practically burnt his cool skin.

“Yoosung?” you asked in a hoarse voice, opening your bright eyes to him as he took his hand away. You lifted your hand and touched his own forehead. The brush of your soft skin against his face set his heartbeat thundering in his ears and he scrambled upwards, unsure of how to handle the sudden rush of emotion than to get away from you lest he lose control entirely. He caught your hand in his and smiled sheepishly, squeezing it gently.

“I guess we’re both sick, huh?”

You struggled to sit up as well, your hair lopsided on one half and frizzy on the other. Despite it, you looked radiant, the glow of sunlight that seeped in from the cracked blinds lighting up your hair to look angelic. You gave him the same timid smile back, pulling the sheets over yourself, shivering a little despite the relatively warm air.

“Oops,” you said, your voice snuffly. With a sheepish smile, you added, “it was worth it.”

Did you even know what you did to him? He was thankful for the all-encompassing fever now, because it was giving him a reasonable excuse for the hideous blush on his cheeks. You were just too cute, too good—a wave of possessiveness washed over Yoosung and he felt as if he wanted to hug you tight so that nobody else could even _look_ at you except for him. The fever was muddling his thoughts and he ended up unable to restrain himself, leaning forwards to hug you anyways. You started suddenly with surprise but your arms soon slung themselves around his back snugly, locking him close to you.

“I shouldn’t have,” Yoosung muttered guiltily, resting his face in the crook of your neck. Each breath brought the subtle scent of the perfume you’d worn last night and it seemed to settle his dizziness somewhat. “I think I was the one who gave it to you by accident.”

“It’s okay,” you replied, your voice quiet but clearly audible in his ear. The tone was soft and gentle—everything that he loved about you. He hadn’t known it was possible to love somebody this much. He knew what love was, sure. He loved his parents, his friends, the game LOLOL; he loved Rika, too, but with you, it was so much more. With you he felt as if he needed to be with you for every second that he was awake. He wouldn’t want to fall asleep because then he’d be without you… and when he was asleep he wanted to be dreaming of you. When he woke up he wanted to see you. He wanted you. Everything that you were, the good and the bad… God, he wanted you.

Forcefully he moved his attention back to you as you curled up to his body. Hearing your slow breathing—congested as it was—calmed him. He rested his eyes for a moment to absorb the feeling of you in his arms. Your warmth melded with his, and the feeling of your soft skin made him feel so at ease that it was like there was no wrong in the world at all. Like every day would be spring, without even a chance of winter coming to chase him down. You were his spring, having melted the winter from Rika’s death away. His beloved spring.

 

_Go take care of her_  
_She's all that you've got_  
_All that you've wanted_  
_And all that you're not_

_Don't worry about me_  
_I'll take care of you_  
_This is a way to say that I love you_

“At least we can take care of each other, right?” you said with good humour, rubbing his shoulder blades soothingly.

“I wanted _you_ to take care of me. I don’t want you to be sick too.” Yoosung was aware that he was being whiny and sighed, nuzzling his face into your neck further, hoping that his body might resolve the feverish chill that was causing you to shiver in his arms. He slumped into you and you slumped into him, the two of you mutually supporting each other. You giggled quietly, the laugh ruffling a strand of his hair.

“What if I said I wanted _you_ to take care of _me_?” You pulled him away from you slightly to look at him. Your eyes were a little puffy and he knew he looked worse for wear. You raised your eyebrows and the two of you burst out into laughter simultaneously, holding your stomachs, before he sneezed three times fast.

“Bleth you,” you tried to say, before grabbing a tissue of your own. You blew your nose for a solid minute.

“We seem so pathetic,” Yoosung commented, humour still on his voice. “If only we were like Zen, we’d get better by tomorrow.”

“We should… make some warm soup. You’re not going to class today.” You motioned to get up but he forcefully took your shoulders and sat you back down, laying you back into the mattress. “Yoosung!” you protested, but he drew the blankets to your chin and gave you a fleeting kiss to the forehead.

“Let me take care of you. Like you wanted.”

“But…”

He kissed you again, this time across the lips to silence you. It worked effectively.

“Because we’re both sick,” he said slyly in a sing-songy way, “it’s okay. Right?”

Your face a hot pink, you nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck and dragging him down for another.

 

_You get out of bed_  
_You're so messy and sweet_  
_A kiss on my cheek_

_I'll leave my head for thinking_  
_This job's for a heart that's beating_

Yoosung waited for the soup to boil and saw you come out of the bedroom, phone in one hand as you rubbed the grogginess out of your eyes with the other. His own phone had been buzzing from the messenger but he’d left it be, focusing instead on cooking a delicious soup so that he might be able to hear you say that it was good. It was a bit selfish of him, he knew, but he justified his greediness by hoping that it would help the both of you get better.

“Anything new?” he asked cheerily, his mood boosted by the sight of you wearing one of his SKY hoodies. You looked especially cute wearing his clothing. If not for the oversized sleeves and the way it slumped over your frame, he liked the fact that you were wearing _his_ clothes, marking you as his. He had kept that latter thought to himself, though. You shook your head, your hair following softly like a satin curtain.

“Well, Zen sent another selfie. Or two.”

“No!” Yoosung groaned. “I thought he’d have recovered from that problem by now!”

You laughed a little. “I think it’s cute that he sends so many pictures of himself. My phone storage is used up because of the auto-save, though…”

Immediately a prick of bitterness hit his stomach and he clenched his jaw slightly, smiling instead to mask the scowl.

“Yeah?” he said casually, hoping that he didn’t sound as possessive as he felt. He knew that he didn’t have the right to be jealous. Zen was an attractive guy. Anybody with working eyes could tell that. But you’d already sworn yourself to him, so he shouldn’t have to worry. But still, hearing you compliment another man… No, there had to be a logical route to follow. Yoosung tried to think of what Jumin would do. Jumin was always so cool, calm, collected… Jumin had a handle on his emotions. Jumin never overthought anything, so why should he? Still, he was clenching the chopsticks in his hands a little hard, and his teeth ground when a sudden image of you laughing with Zen popped into his head.

“Oh, I almost forgot, Yoosung.”

“What is it?”

You startled him by kissing him on the cheek. He hadn’t even noticed you standing next to him and he inhaled sharply as you smiled, patting him once on the chest with a knowing look.

“Don’t worry. I think you’re the cutest.” You winked and turned, walking off to the washroom. Yoosung waited for you to leave before clutching his chest, leaning heavily on the counter and nearly falling to the floor. His heart beat heavily and Yoosung knew that it was futile to think about anything at all. You’d just be in his thoughts anyways.

The thought of that made him unbelievably, stupidly happy.

 

_I don't care if I'm down_  
_I don't care how I feel_  
_I love you so much_  
_That I'll always be here_

_Not only today_  
_But forever more_  
_Until I die_  
_Or you just get bored_

Yoosung looked up with a bit of concern as you played around with your spoon, dragging it overtop the soup with a bit of a melancholy expression.

“Is it okay?” he asked worriedly. “Even if you’re not hungry, you have to eat to get your strength back.”

“Hm?” You looked up, seemingly startled to find that he was talking to you. You smiled hastily, shaking your head rapidly. “No, it’s delicious. Of course it is! Thank you, Yoosung.”

“Then why do you look that way?”

“Aha… you found me out already.” You tucked hair behind your ears, something you did when you got nervous. Of course he would’ve known. Yoosung knew and wanted to know everything about you. He put down his own spoon and looked at you seriously, reaching across the table to take your cold hand in his.

“You can tell me.”

You frowned slightly but gave quickly, curling your small fingers around his. With a sigh you looked up at him, your eyes large with worry that he hated to see on your face.

“Rika’s death day is tomorrow, right?”

Unconsciously his fingers twitched and you looked down, looking guilty.

“I was just worried about how you’d be feeling,” you murmured softly.

Despite having known you for so long, now, he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing from you. After having treated you so poorly by constantly comparing you to Rika, you had accepted him and forgave him, and now you were worried about his feelings about her? He didn’t deserve you. He couldn’t deserve you. But because he was so selfish, he took your love anyways, because he was already yours. Hopelessly hanging from the red thread on your pinky finger, he could only pray that you felt the same.

Before you had come into his life he had most feared his future. Without Rika to guide him, he was lost and unsheltered. His days were monotonous and he was pathetic, really… he was a failed student and a failure of a person. And then you had come in to turn it upside down, back to front, corner to corner. Where he had seen despair was hope, and where he had seen uncertainty he saw chance.

With that came the price of a new, bigger fear: losing you.

But with your hand cradled in his, he came to a resolution to the fear that he had been holding ever since you’d first talked to him on the messenger. He loved you. That was certain. And, even if he lost you, like he lost Rika… or if he lost you to somebody else… he would still love you. He’d continue to dangle from your red thread until he died.

“Yoosung?” you blurted out, panicky, “why are you crying? I’m so sorry, I never should have—!”

“No, it wasn’t you.” He wiped the stupid tears from his cheeks and smiled tenderly through the blurriness, emotion choking up his words a bit embarrassingly. He forced himself to continue anyways, knowing that he needed you to know. “I love you. I’ll always love you.”

“…me too. I love you too. So don’t cry…”

Peace and excitement and everything in between settled on him and he let go of you, sliding his chair closer to yours. He continued to smile as he spoke, knowing that Rika wouldn’t have wanted him to be sad about her death. He hoped she was smiling while watching him.

“I might miss her, but she’s in a better place right now. Tomorrow we can go visit her together. Is that okay?”

“Of course it is. Are you sure you’re okay, though?”

“Yes.” He took your spoon and held it up, his smile having turned a bit mischievous. “Now open up.”

“Y-you’re going to feed me?! Yoosung, that’s embarrassing…”

“Who’ll see? It’ll get cold if you keep picking at it without eating. Now open up, honey~.”

“This is so cheesy. I’m cringing!”

But you opened your mouth anyways, allowing him to feed you. And you let him kiss you afterwards, chasing the taste of the chicken soup away with the sweetness of his adoration.

“I love you,” he said again, over and over, through his words and through his actions, despite the fact that it would never be enough to show how much he needed you.

“Me too,” you replied earnestly, your red string knotted to his tightly.

When he woke up the next day, he found that he felt a little better. And when he remembered that you were next to him, he felt that he might as well have inherited Zen’s monstrous powers of healing after all, because the way the two of you touched made it seem like he had never been under the weather at all.

 

_This is a way to say that  
I love you  
_

**Author's Note:**

> Elsewhere: https://goo.gl/R9tVfi


End file.
